Oh Calamity for M' lady Tara
I hear the sleepy twitterings
of small birds stirring at first light.
Insistently my alarm rings
and puts all chance of sleep to flight.
I rise and wash and shave and dress.
without a single conscious thought.
My mind rejecting wakefulness, .
A routine battle which is fought
each morning when I first arise
in the early hours of the dawn.
I knuckle my unseeing eyes
and curse the day that I was born.
The smell of coffee permeates
into my still somnolent brain
The rich aroma stimulates
and brings me back to life again.
I realise to my dismay
that I have made a grave mistake.
Today is not a working day
but sadly now I’m wide awake.
23-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Is it Tea or Coffee?
Is it Tea or Coffee?
Tell me!
My instant early morning dream
I like it black, white with sugar or cream!
The choice is free
Yet the mind cannot agree
With Tea is a Yippee!
With Coffee it is a Whoopee!
The thought of a little caffeine
The smell of fresh roasted beans
Will once again set off my adrenalin
While my exhausted brain is waiting
That stirring cup of sizzling black
Put on the kettle; spill the beans out of the sack
I will pay the fee; I will pay the levee
I will beg on one knee for a little bit of Coffee
Take a sip of the early morning coffee
Close your eyes and try to see
As you smell the airy aroma like a bee
Tea or Coffee! Perhaps you now understand me
Those swarms of dark brown seeds
They feed my vicious needs indeed
I don’t care how much I pee or how much I wee
For that sparking liquid of hot black called coffee
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Up, abysmal thought, out of my depths! I am your rooster and dawn, you sleepy worm: Up! Up! My voice will yet crow you awake! Unsnap the straps of your ears: listen! Because I want to hear you! Up! Up! Here there is thunder enough to make even graves learn to listen! And wipe the sleep and all that befogs and blinds you from your eyes! Hear me with your eyes too: my voice is a remedy even for those born blind. And once you are awake, you shall remain awake eternally. It is not my manner to wake great-grandmothers from their sleep only to tell them — go back to sleep! You stir, you stretch, you gasp? Up! Up! No gasping — you will speak to me! Zarathustra summons you, the godless one! I, Zarathustra, the advocate of life, the advocate of suffering, the advocate of the circle — you I summon, my most abysmal thought! Hail
to me! You are coming – I hear you! My abyss speaks, I have unfolded my ultimate depth to the light!
quote by Friedrich Nietzsche
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The 'Poem A Day' Project - Day 85
I wake up at 6pm
Wash and dress and shave and then
Get in my car, to work I drive along
I’m working throughout the night
Though I’m still feeling bright
Even though midnight has come and gone
Late night radio has no DJ
Line of music just plays away
And no one else seems to be awake
Working hard the time flies past
Keep on going until at last
The sky grows light and the dawn starts to break
Work all finished heading home
The streets are empty I drive alone
The sky is blue and the birds start to shout
I drag myself back into bed
Try to rest my tired head
While my body clock tries to work it out
poem by Flying Lemming
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mind’s Eye
In the early morning hours,
I go out and sit beneath a tree,
just me, myself and I
listening to the dawn awake
within my mind’s eye.
I hear the blades of grass grow
and the chattering of roosted birds
as they awake to another day.
All the life that begins to stir
as the sun reaches for the sky.
The nighttime hush explodes with sounds
as all living things awake
from their slumber of the night before.
I just sit in silence
as my mind’s eye listens to it all,
the waking of another day
for one and all.
24 May 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Walking Dead
I don’t sleep too well anymore.
I’m usually awake in the morning by 4: 00
I look at the clock and say “Oh no! ”
Should I stay in bed and lie awake
or start my day early with a coffee break?
I’m ready for a nap in the morning by 10: 00.
But then I’d have to start my day all over again.
I’m not a good napper. I hear every sound.
I’m like a ball of string that’s tightly wound
but coming loose at the end.
Now REM sleep, what’s that about?
That’s something I think I’ve done without
for too darn long. It’s a female woe.
A man hits the pillow and off he’ll go.
He’s asleep before you can say goodnight.
It’s obvious it gets worse the older I get.
There’s a clock in my head that must be set
with an alarm that goes off at 4: 00 in the morn.
I wish I could sleep like when I was born.
But that’s not gonna happen soon.
So here I am deprived of sleep.
I’ve tried everything, even counting sheep
but the darn fleecy things keep on comin’
and in my head I hear a drummin’
sayin, ” get up, get up, and get out of bed.
Most times I feel like the walking dead.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Hunter's Mind
Awake, awake!
Awake to the morning bowl from last night's food;
Like the fling of a stone that puts the stars into flight.
What has the hunter in the hand?
Awake to the games of the Sultans,
Where the morning glory do call for the hunter;
Awake, awake!
Awake to the facts of life;
Cos', the hunter's gun is ready for action.
Oh no! ! The hunter's eye has caught the Sultans turret,
Like the noose of light to awake nature's call;
Who can satisfy the Sultans?
Like a little pool, so is the hunter's mind;
The hunter's gun is ready for action.
The only man who makes no mistake is,
The man who never does anything;
Awake, awake!
The Sultans turret is in trouble;
Like the noose of light to awake nature's call.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Morning’s Glory
Dawn breaks the stranglehold
of a sleepy dusky night.
The sun peers above the eastern horizon
as morning begins to break into full glory.
Flowers open their petals wide
to allow the warmth inside;
birds leave their roosts
to wander the sky.
The morning’s glory soars
on delicate golden wings
as the early birds begin to sing.
Morning’s glory looks down on all
awakening with sleepy eyes,
preparing them to go
through a brand new day
that starts with the morning’s glory
and the sun shining bright.
9 December 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Car Wash
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
(This is a Shark Tale exclusive)
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
(Here we go again) (2004)
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
(Say what, say what) (phenomenal hit)
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
(Yeah)
Ooh, do do do do do do do
Car wash, car wash
Ooh, do do do do do do do
Car wash, car wash
(Yeah, let's drop it on 'em like this)
Ooh, do do do do do do, na na na ah, ooh
Ooh, do do do do do do, na na na ah, ooh
You might not ever get rich, ha
Let me tell you it's better than digging a ditch
There ain't no telling who you might meet
A movie star or maybe a common thief
Working at the car wash (oh oh, yeah yeah)
At the car wash, yeah (ooh, yeah yeah)
At the car wash (sing it with me now)
Working at the car wash, yeah
(Oh, oh)
Come summer the work gets kind of hard
This ain't no place to be if you're planning on being a star
Let me tell you it's always cool
And the boss don't mind sometimes if you're acting like a fool
Working at the car wash (oh oh, yeah yeah)
At the car wash, yeah (ooh ooh ooh)
At the car wash (ow said, now come and work it with me now, yeah)
Working at the car wash, yeah
Said, said, said, sing
(Work and work)
Well those cars never stop coming
(Work and work)
Keep those rags and machines humming
(Work and work)
My fingers to the bone
(Work and work)
Keep on and can't wait till it's time to go home
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Fill up and you don't have to pay
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today
Give it up, right away
Missy Elliott:
Work at the, car wash
Sharks in the water make they jaws lock
When I swim through the grim, I'm too hot
Y'all can make y'all bets
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
Shark slayer, bow down playa
'Cause this right here will be your worst nightmare (nightmare)
Work that, work that, pop back, hurt that
Turn this up and bang it all up in the surface
(Work and work)
9 to 5 I gotta keep that fat stack coming
(Work and work) (work it)
No matter how big the shark is, the right keep running
(Work and work)
Washing cars ain't no place to be a superstar man
(Work and work)
That's why I work, and work
Working at the car wash (ohhh, yeah)
At the car wash, yeah (come on work it, baby work it, say now)
At the car wash (ahh)
Working at the car wash, yeah
So come on, come on, come on, come on, come on
Ooh, do do do do do do, na na na ah, ooh
(Now keep it coming)
Ooh, do do do do do do (woo, so), na na na ah, ooh
(You may not ever get rich, but hey)
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today (hey)
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today (phenomenal hit)
song performed by by Christina Aguilera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Omar
Awake for morning in the bowl of night
has flung the stone that puts the stars to flight.
And lo the hunter of the east has caught
The sultan’s turret in a noose of light.
Omar Khayyam
Awake for morning in the bowl of night
is pouring never ending streams of light
Which emanating from the east has fought
and put the darkness of the night to flight.
The sun displays to every man his might
Has flung the stone that puts the stars to flight
His gifts are given free cannot be bought
or sold by any man. None has the right.
And Lo the hunter from the east has caught
so easily the prey that he has long sought.
The Imam prays but prayers will gain him nought
Because the Sun is stronger than he thought.
The Sultan's turret in a noose of light
Presents newly awakened eyes a sight
each day that comes unbidden and unsought.
Accepted by all men as their birthright.
12-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daily
you wake up early
you wash your face
you use soap and water
you wipe your face with
a white towel near the sink
hanging
you dress up
you take breakfast
you chew your food
you drink your coffee
you read the papers
hear the news on tv
you go to the garage
warm up your car
you open the garage
and speed your way to your office
you read the whole day
you talk less
you take your lunch
and you cat's nap
you work the whole afternoon
you read a lot
you write
you are tired and ask your driver
to drive you home
you open the door of your house
you sleep with your shoes on
you sleep for some hours
you are hungry
you go to the kitchen and eat
the food made ready for you
by your housemaid
you are alone in this sequence
you turn on the tv
and the whole night you feel
you are the lookout
for something that is about to happen
you ask yourself, what is this all about?
you tell yourself, you do not know, it is just your daily routine
for years and years, and it goes on and on and you have no
way of stopping
they call it life
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Eight Minutes To One
In the early hours the radio alarm
went off at eight minutes to one
despite me setting it earlier for six
and checking that it was on.
Now wide awake I rechecked the setting;
and I had definitely made no mistake.
I put it down to an electrical malfunction
and fell asleep until it was time to wake.
I didn’t think any more about the alarm
and continued with my normal day.
The alarm was already set for six o’clock
so I went to bed in the usual way.
At eight minutes to one the alarm went off
exactly the same time as the previous night.
Again I checked on my alarm settings
and again everything was set right.
This time I unplugged the whole radio unit
and recalibrated the time and alarm.
I was now happy that all would be okay
and fell asleep relaxed and calm.
The following night I went to bed as usual
and slept until eight minutes to one.
The cursed radio alarm went off again,
so this radio’s days were done.
The next day I bought an electrical travel clock
and tried out the alarm there and then.
It worked like a charm and I was very pleased,
so that night I went to bed at ten.
At eight minutes to one the alarm went off again
and I could hardly believe this to be true.
I was faced with a problem that had to be sorted,
and a mechanical clock should do.
I bought a large brass, twin belled wind up clock;
set the alarm and several times tried it out.
That night I retired expecting a good night’s sleep,
with no electrics to care about.
At eight minutes to one the alarm went off,
and I threw the clock against the wall.
I was now convinced something supernatural
was causing the earlier morning call.
Over the next few days I tried several clocks
and the alarms went off the same.
In the end I didn’t have a clock in the room,
and I never will again.
poem by Orlando Belo
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He Does Not Sleep That Well At Night
He does not sleep that well at night though his troubles are small
The possums walking on his roof the rats squeak in the wall,
The boobook owl is crying mopoke on the trees across the way
He used to sleep without once waking till after break of day.
He does not sleep that well at night his wife beside him snore
He lay beside her wide awake for three hours sometimes more
The moon shines through the window pane he hear the plover cry
And the hunting fox is barking in the old paddock nearby.
He does not sleep that well at night he lay in bed awake
And the voices of the nocturnal creatures he cannot mistake
The frogs are singing in the ponds to tell that rain is near
And occasionally the barking of the neighbourhood dogs he hear.
He goes to bed at ten o clock but he doesn't get to sleep till around two
Although he must get up to go to work at seven still his worries seem so few
Compared to some who do sleep well with him it used not to be this way
He often slept for ten hours straight till after break of day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Call
Why art thou not awake, my son?
The morning breaks I formed for thee;
And I thus early by thee stand,
Thy new-awakening life to see.
Why art thou not awake, my son?
The birds upon the bough rejoice;
And I thus early by thee stand,
To hear with theirs thy tuneful voice.
Why sleep'st thou still? the laborers all
Are in my vineyard;—hear them toil,
As for the poor with harvest song,
They treasure up the wine and oil.
I come to wake thee; haste, arise,
Or thou no share with me can find;
Thy sandals seize, gird on thy clothes,
Or I must leave thee here behind.
poem by Jones Very
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A Waking Day
The dew jewelled life
sparkles under the morning sun
at the beginning of a new day
as sleepy heads awaken
across the tundra of city life.
Mouths open wide in yawns
as alarm clocks ring the call
to awake from our dreamy hollows,
to rise for work or play
and greet the coming day.
poem by David Harris
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A monologue on 'nothing in particular
Well you know,
It always begins like this
'The day starts'
Half an hour early for me
Clocks set hour an hour early
The day begins
Well morning starts
With a break of sunlight
Flooding through the cracks
In the blinds
In summer it is always much earlier
Than the pre set time on the alarm clock
Which is primed to go off
Half an hour earlier
Inevitably
The light wakes me at sunrise
Which often occurs around five o'clock
Like some cruel trick
I am woken exactly an hour or is it half an hour
Before my alarm clock goes off, half an hour earlier?
Which is set to go off half an hour early
But that never happens in the summer
The lie in ends up a sleep over
In winter this is a different matter again
With no light
So there I am at five in the morning
exactly or, approximately the time
The sun is meant to set
[bar a second or to or maybe a minute
behind or ahead of prediction]
There I am WIDE AWAKE
No lie in
No chance of sleeping
Again
Exept at the WRONG TIME!
Then I recover
Five minutes behind schedule
pull the blind
make a cup of tea
giving myself exactly
thirty minutes
Before drinking it
to get ready for work
Flossing does not happen until
A much later time
There is a ten minute interval
For toast and tea
And tidying away
My watch is set five minutes ahead
Or maybe three minutes
I leave on time
In time for the bus that leaves
Two minutes early
The next one arrives ten minutes late
The driver
Has donated his brain to medical science
Thirty years prior to his death
Give or take a couple of hours or minutes
He slips into a slow coma behind the steering wheel
The world is in slow motion
Catatonia eclipses the traffic
I am now on time
To be late
despite all my carefully timed efforts
Now that was just the beginning of the morning
yvette smith
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aroma
The aroma of coffee,
The aroma of cocoa,
The aroma of tea,
Sleep, asleep!
Wake, awake!
Pace, apace!
Bode, abode!
Long, along!
Range, arrange!
Row, arrow!
And of the way things are done,
And of the way love is made;
This psychological problem,
This psychological war! !
But, let us shape this world with the aroma of love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A peace of mind...
When I wake up from my bed in the morning
My saturate eyes open slowly and welcomes the morning sun
Then I feel warm and comfortable at peace of mind
The morning smell of the earth reminds me my childhood
The wetness of flora brings me cool breeze.
I was born in this universe with peaceful nature around me
Then, I always felt that I was a star on my own brightness.
Learned, the love and kindness brings me a peace of mind
Learned, the prayers for God brings me a peace of mind
Learned, the help for helpless brings me a peace of mind
Learned, the life of peace brings me a peace of mind
When my saturate eyes close slowly and welcomes the silent night
Then I fall sleep comfortably at peace of mind while praying God
to have another peaceful day.
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Factory
Early in the morning factory whistle blows,
Man rises from bed and puts on his clothes,
Man takes his lunch, walks out in the morning light,
Its the working, the working, just the working life.
Through the mansions of fear, through the mansions of pain,
I see my daddy walking through them factory gates in the rain,
Factory takes his hearing, factory gives him life,
The working, the working, just the working life.
End of the day, factory whistle cries,
Men walk through these gates with death in their eyes.
And you just better believe, boy, somebodys gonna get hurt tonight,
Its the working, the working, just the working life.
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Nights
In the middle of my night,
still hours from day
as I toss and turn I'm wide-awake
but still in my bed I lay.
But while my comforter
keeps out the cold,
still in my wakefulness
I fear getting old.
I'm aware that the world
keeps moving along.
The wheels and ships
are humming their song.
And as the hours
bring me to dawn
I stretch, I scratch
and then I yawn.
I must join the world
and hum my song
until another bedtime
comes along.
In the middle of the night,
still hours from day
as I toss and turn I'm wide-awake.
But still in my bed I pray.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Beautiful Daughter
There we go, running before we can walk again
Can you imagine the hours I keep
Learning to sleep again, see her face again
Blast the world, fruits of the morning...
Carry the weight of the heart in a storm
Suffer the dawn today, today
Your beautiful daughter made me younger today
Beautiful daughter, now the darkness hides the tears that soak
The pillow where she lay
Wide awake, lying in wait for the moon to break
Drinking the lake of the dreams that we share
Wanting you there today, today
Chorus
Can you believe she just dropped in to say goodbye, say goodbye
Im crying, beautiful daughter give me more, open the door
Pools in her eyes that are bright and deep
Can you imagine the hours I keep
Learning to sleep again, again
Chorus
Chorus
Beautiful daughter give me more, open the door
Chorus
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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